


Call of the Banshee

by Mr_Bilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Gen, RIP Allison Argent, Taking liberties with Lydia's Bansheeism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3298460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Bilinski/pseuds/Mr_Bilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pack wants to get together to do what they never had the chance to do: a memorial for Allison. As the day draws closer, Lydia becomes more and more inconsolable. As she continues to struggle with the pain of grieving for her fallen friend, she receives help from the Other Side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call of the Banshee

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing for Lydia. The plot bunny just wouldn't leave me alone. Just a short story version of an Allison tribute.

It was a bright and cheerful day when Scott had called the Pack together for a meeting. Lydia didn't really understand why they even needed a meeting if it wasn't anything dangerous. Had their great alpha forgotten about the wonderful invention of group texting? That appeared to be evident to the strawberry blonde as she shook her head with a soft chuckle. 

She rolled her eyes as she heard her text notification go off for the tenth time in the past twenty minutes. She didn't need to check her phone to know what the texts said:

'You're still going to the memorial, right?' 

She couldn't bother to answer them at the moment as she attempted to ignore the scrawny freshman that was currently trying to have a conversation with her. Her entire day suddenly turned to crap with one sentence. Five simple words had completely obliterated her resolve,

"You're prettier when you smile."

Did the pimple-faced freshman really think he would brighten her day by paying her a compliment? It was a lost cause considering she very seldom took the opinions of freshman to heart. Normally she would have offered the boy a sarcastic retort, but his words were followed by another voice before she could even open her mouth,

"Don't frown, Lydia," Allison's faint voice said mockingly, "You never know when somebody's falling in love with your smile."

Lydia's eyes began to water as her blood ran cold. No. Absolutely not. There was no way, no freaking way, that she had just heard--

"Take a deep breath, Lydia," Allison said, this time more clearly. "You're not going crazy. I'm not some evil spirit. Yes, I am really dead. You're a banshee and I'm using your sensitivity to death as a connection for communication. Did I miss any questions?"

Lydia drew in a shaky breath before she returned her attention to the freshman boy, seeming almost surprised he was standing there. She straightened her posture and put on her best Queen face before she spoke in a snarky tone,

"I'm sorry; are we done here? I was so distracted by that abhorrently generic line and that disgusting large pimple on your forehead. While I admire the effort, I highly suggest you set your sights lower because I cannot let myself be bothered with a little boy whose best idea for a first date is a round of Yu-Gi Oh while his mommy makes us Bagel Bites in the kitchen."

When the boy didn't move and just stood there in shock, she pursed her lips before she slammed her locker door shut and shouted, "Scram!"

The freshman jumped before he quickly turned and ran the other way. He didn't hesitate to call her a "crazy bitch" on his way down the hallway, either.

Lydia slightly huffed before she turned around and began making her way toward the parking lot, "I'm losing my mind."

But she hadn't been losing her mind. It was really Allison and she was communicating with her dead best friend. She'd spent a good couple of hours in her car, coming to terms with that fact and struggling to not have a panic attack. She was talking to her DEAD. BEST. FRIEND.

"Lydia," Allison chided, "you're a banshee who was kidnapped by an evil fox spirit that looked like Stiles, you were bitten by an alpha werewolf; is this really that far of a reach to believe?"

"Well, excuse me for my abnormal behavior." Lydia retorted, "You're right; I speak to dead people all the time. Why, just the other day I had the funniest chat with Marilyn Monroe about makeup tips. I'm a banshee, Allison, not a medium." 

"I know. It's a family secret Gerard learned from the Arroyo's. Somehow they had learned how to connect with a banshee's sensitivity to death from the afterlife. It's weird, but not very well known. I read it in one of Gerard's journals that I snuck out of his room one of the times I'd visited him and figured it'd come in handy after we found out what you were."

Lydia chuckled softly as she rested her elbow on the armrest of the car and began to softly cry, "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I tried! I told you not to find me! Why did you have to--nevermind, I already know."

"Why are you avoiding our friends?" Allison asked.

Lydia shook her head as she thought about her question. She had been putting on a brave face for everybody and pretended to carry on with her life, the entire time hurting inside with survivor's guilt. She knew if she was around her friends when they started to cry that she would break down in front of them. 

"You need them, Lydia. You need to be with them because they need you, too. I knew the risks when I decided to go find you. I died fighting for your life; a proud death. I miss you guys, I love you all...but I don't regret anything that I did."

Lydia clenched her eyes shut as she shook her head. Of course Allison would say that; she wouldn't be Allison if she didn't.  
She straightened her posture and inhaled deeply before she exhaled and turned her head toward the passenger's seat as she spoke, "I'm not avoiding them. I'm just...avoiding a situation. I've been holding a pretty strong front, but I don't want them to see me like this."

"They're pack, Lydia. You all agreed to this memorial because you needed to grieve one final time. Be with them and grieve, then help rebuild as a stronger pack."

"I don't give a crap about pack right now, Allison!" Lydia snapped back. 

"Don't you get testy with me, Lydia Martin. You all need each other, whether you are ready to admit it or not. They trust you. Believe me when I tell you they are just as past this as you are."

Maybe she was right; they would all inherently be strong for each other by grieving together. The more she thought about it, the more appealing it began to sound.

"Let's go, Lydia." Allison said in a more serious tone before she chuckled, "Seriously, Lydia; what does a girl have to do to be able to attend her own memorial?"

Lydia scoffed before she narrowed her eyes and slowly turned toward the windshield. She slightly shrugged as she forcefully started her car up and put it into reverse, "No. I think I'll pass."

Allison sighed, "Watch out for that Navigator."

"Hey," Lydia retorted, "no afterlife driving!" She craned her neck and scoffed as she glared at the Navigator, "Who the hell gives a Navigator to a sixteen year old?"

Allison snickered, "Some people like the utility, Lyds."

The two remained quiet until Lydia put the car in drive. Allison suddenly said in a gentle voice, "Stop. Pull back into the parking spot, Lydia." When the car just sat there she continued, "Lydia! You've never abandoned your friends; why would you start to now? Pull back into your space and go."

Lydia drew in a shaky breath before she suddenly pulled back into her parking spot and shut the car off. She sat still for a while, contemplating her next move.

"Go and be strong, Lydia Martin, because no one expects anything less from you, and neither should you. I'll be with you every step of the way."

Lydia sniffled before she nodded and reached out for the door handle. She needed to be with her friends, her pack.

She couldn't help but smile inwardly as she heard Allison sigh as the banshee approached the group and her eyes met with Scott's. They were all gathered around a bench outside the front of the school. 

Scott greeted Lydia with a small smile before he looked at his pack and spoke in a solemn voice, "I know a few of you are wondering why we're meeting around a bench to remember Allison. I chose this place..." he paused as he stared down at the bench with his brown eyes. His lips curved into a smile before he continued, "because this is where Allison sat the first time I saw her. It was the day after I was bit and I heard her talking to her mom from the classroom."

"Scott," Lydia heard Allison whisper, "this is why he is my first love."

Stiles put a supportive hand on Scott's shoulder as Scott slowly crouched down and put a hand on the seat of the bench. Lydia's eyes began to tear up as Allison continued to speak to her.

"They can never know about this, Lydia. I won't be contacting you again after this. You won't move on if I don't."

Lydia nodded softly before she stepped forward and rested her hand on the back of the bench, "Allison died a warrior's death and she died fighting for the ones she loved. Never forget that."


End file.
